


A little nudge into the right direction

by aquileaofthelonelymountain



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Humour, M/M, Matchmaking, Thilbo, bagginshield, besotted husbands, old husbands in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 13:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19701904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquileaofthelonelymountain/pseuds/aquileaofthelonelymountain
Summary: Thorin sighed. “Arwen and Estel, our hopeless cases.”Bilbo scrunched his nose. “The longing gazes, the shy smiles … They’re even more hopeless than we were.”Thorin snorted. “Don’t ever say that to Balin.”Bilbo and Thorin agree: They have to get Arwen and Estel together! It's not easy for them to play the matchmakers, though, since they're way too infatuated with each other ...





	A little nudge into the right direction

**Author's Note:**

> Bilbo and Thorin always refer to Aragorn as "Estel". I thought it would be more fitting for them since he's more of another nephew to take care of for them than the future king of Gondor ;)

Bilbo sighed as he stared into his teacup. “It’s quite painful to watch them dance around each other like that.”

“They’re elves, _givashel_. They’re always painful to watch.” There was no heat in Thorin’s voice, only mirth, and the dwarf calmly drank his tea. He had become far too fond of Tauriel to hold any real grudge against the elves in general, but since he was too stubborn to admit how easily his daughter-in-law could twist him around her little finger, he had made a habit of teasing the elves a little. He liked to grumble a bit, at least from time to time, but the elves of Rivendell took it with good humour. Bilbo and Thorin had always been welcome guests here and had been offered generous space when they had decided to stay in Rivendell for a while. The “while” had turned into a long-term stay by now. They had spent almost half a year in Rivendell, idly passing their time: taking long walks through the valley, exploring Rivendell’s many hidden pathways, listening to stories and songs, or simply sitting in the sun and watching the passer-byes.

Two of them had caught their attention very soon.

“You know very well whom I’m talking about.”

“Of course I do.” Now it was Thorin’s turn to sigh. “Arwen and Estel, our hopeless cases.”

Bilbo scrunched his nose. “The longing gazes, the shy smiles … They’re even more hopeless than we were.”

Thorin snorted. “Don’t ever say that to Balin.”

“You’re probably right.” The hobbit chuckled softly. “He was so done with us, I think he’s still having nightmares in which we stare longingly at each other, completely oblivious of the other’s feelings.”

“And he won’t be the only one. Sometimes I wonder that nobody just yelled at us, or locked us into a closet until we confessed our feelings …” He flinched in surprise when Bilbo’s teaspoon hit the table with a loud clang. The hobbit hurried to his feet, cupped his husband’s face and pressed a smacking kiss to his forehead.

“You’re a genius, my heart!”

Thorin groaned. “No!” he exclaimed. “We _won’t_ lock Arwen and Estel into a closet together! Have you forgotten how tall and strong Estel is? I’m not two hundred anymore, just in case you’ve forgotten.”

“But you’re still as handsome as on the day we met.” Bilbo grinned and ran his fingers through Thorin’s silver locks. “And don’t worry, we will be subtle. We will just give Arwen and Estel … a little nudge into the right direction, you know? So they finally get to see what’s so clear to everybody around them.”

“Sure”, Thorin grumbled. “Because the subtle nudges from our friends worked so well back then.” He didn’t manage to keep the frown on his face, though, as Bilbo continued to comb his fingers through his hair, and he sighed. “I’ll have to start training. I give you two weeks before you ask me to lock them into a closet after all, and then I want to be prepared.”

***

They didn’t have to wait long until the first chance to give Arwen and Estel a little nudge into the right direction presented itself.

It was evening, and they enjoyed dinner in the Great Hall, when Thorin suddenly bent close to Bilbo and whispered into his ear: “ _Givashel_ , have a look.”

“Hm?” So far, the food in front of him had had Bilbo’s sole attention, but now he looked up from the appetisers. A knowing smile appeared on his face, and he tried to hide it behind his napkin. Opposite of them, Arwen and Estel had sat down. Some other elves were with them, and the two didn’t sit next to each other – but well, one couldn’t ask for everything …

“Good evening”, Bilbo greeted them cheerfully. All of them returned his greeting politely, and Estel added: “Are you making progress with your poetry, Master Baggins? I remember you had troubles with that one stanza.”

“Oh, that problem is solved.” Bilbo smiled broadly. What a well-mannered boy. “Thank you for your help once again. But I’m not quite satisfied with some of the rhymes yet, I must admit.”

“That’s the song I’m not allowed to hear, isn’t it?” Thorin chimed in a tad too casually.

“Oh, stop pouting, darling. It’s not finished yet.” Bilbo made quite a fuss about this special piece of poetry and ensured that Thorin didn’t hear a single line from it before it was ready – the song was _about_ Thorin, after all, and he wanted to present a finished, perfect piece to him. “You’ll hear it soon enough.”

“Promise?”

Bilbo gave him a peck on the cheek. “Promise.” Then he scowled. “Don’t make such a face, Elladan. You should be old enough to have seen plenty of people kissing their spouses, so stop grimacing, you rascal.”

“I apologize for my brother’s behaviour, Master Baggins.” Arwen showed him a warm smile. “He did not mean to be rude.”

“Don’t mention it, my lass.” Bilbo made a dismissive gesture while the other elves around them tried to hide their grins and hold back their chuckles – it had never happened before that anyone had called Arwen Undómiel “lass”, not even when she had been a little child.

“That’s a beautiful pendant you’re wearing”, Thorin observed, trying to lead the conversation into another direction.

Her hand reached up to gently touch it. “Thank you, Master Thorin. It is called Evenstar, and it was given from my grandmother to my mother. She in turn gifted it to my father when they started their courtship.”

“A fine piece indeed … and a wonderful courtship gift”, Thorin said with a smile. He kept studying the pendant, and his eyes shone bright with the love for metal, jewels, and his craft.

Bilbo knew that he should take the hint and ask if Arwen intended to give it to her beloved one day as well, he _knew_. And yet the question faded from his lips as he looked at Thorin.

“My husband knows what he’s talking about”, he said fondly. “He has given me the most beautiful courtship gift one could image, a vest made of mithril.”

The elves looked at them in awe, and one of them even uttered something that sounded suspiciously like “wow”. Thorin sat up a little straighter, obviously pleased with their reactions.

Bilbo laughed softly. “At first I didn’t even know that it was meant to be a courtship gift. I thought it was a token of our friendship.” One of the elves – Elrohir, he thought – let out a pained sound at that. The hobbit shot his husband a telltale look, but Thorin answered in a way that clearly meant: “Well, who is to blame – the one who said that or the one who believed that?”

“I should have known better at once”, Bilbo admitted. “I was deeply touched by Thorin’s gesture. It was the eve of the battle. I didn’t know what would await us on the next day, if we would live to see its end. I was afraid.” Thorin placed his hand on Bilbo’s neck, gently rubbing his thumb across his skin, and the hobbit leaned towards his warmth. “And then you gave me the mithril shirt. Something that would protect me. When all others around me prepared to fight, your wish was to protect me.” Then he huffed. “But you could have told me about its value earlier, you know? The whole company stared at me when I was wearing it!”

“Because you look stunning in it.” Thorin grinned a little wistfully. “It’s been a while since I saw you in your mithril shirt, by the way.”

“We have to catch up on that.” Bilbo’s face lit up. “How about a nice private dinner in our rooms? I will cook for us, and then we could spruce up a little. You know, I haven’t seen you in one of your courtly robes for a while either.”

“It’s a date then.”

“I’ve got a date.” The hobbit beamed at the elves opposite of him. “I’ve got a date with my husband.”

They smiled back at him. “I guess you can consider yourself very lucky as well, Master Thorin”, Elrohir remarked. “I have heard that hobbits are great cooks, especially when they cook for their beloved ones.”

They began to talk about the dishes the elvish cooks had prepared for today’s dinner, and Bilbo realized that he had missed the chance to say more about courtship in general and Arwen’s and Estel’s possible courtship in particular. He couldn’t be angry at himself, though.

He and his husband had a date, after all.

***

It was a habit in Elrond’s house to gather in the so-called Hall of Fire after dinner, and to listen to songs and tales.

“That’s a perfect chance”, Bilbo explained. He had linked arms with Thorin, and they were on their way into the Hall of Fire, together with many other elves. Arwen and Estel were amongst them, much to the hobbit’s delight. “We just need a story that shows how brave and heroic, but also compassionate and kind Estel is. Come to think of it, we should rather stress the compassion and kindness part. You know, I’ve always preferred the stories about the King under the Mountain teaching Erebor’s children how to ice-skate to the stories about his deeds on the battle field.”

Thorin immediately knew what story his husband wanted him to tell, and he rolled his eyes. This particular story didn’t make _him_ look brave and heroic, but rather clumsy and pitiable. But since it was all for the greater good, he decided to swallow his pride.

And it was still better than trying to wrestle Longshanks into a closet.

So when everyone had made themselves comfortable in the hall, Thorin raised his voice – he wouldn’t have needed Bilbo’s elbow in the side to do so – and began: “We often tell stories of the heroes of old in here, and of their deeds of bravery in a time when the Sun and the Moon were still young. Throughout the last weeks, for example, the tale of Beren and Lúthien Tinúviel has greatly entertained us … and their undying love for each other has deeply touched us.” He made a short pause to let his words sink. He was proud of himself for having made that allusion, and he was sure that Bilbo would be very pleased with it as well.

“There are many deeds worth of praise in our times as well, though. I witnessed one myself not too long ago. I had accompanied some elves on a ride out of the valley. We were expecting travelling merchants from my own kin, and we wanted to welcome them and guide them towards the Last Homely House.” He caught Bilbo’s slightly exasperated yet fond gaze. His husband remembered very well that Thorin had insisted on accompanying the elves, claiming that they had “not the slightest idea how to greet a dwarf in the appropriate way, not even if they were given written instructions” … and that Thorin had joined them despite the sore back he had tried to hide from Bilbo.

“Estel, I think you remember the occasion I’m talking about? After all, you were amongst the riders as well.” All faces in the hall turned towards the young man – including Arwen’s, Thorin noticed with a small smile.

“Our journey started as a rather pleasant one, but after we had crossed the ford the sound of a horn suddenly pierced the air – a warning that orcs had entered the valley. The horn called us to help, and we hurried towards it. Well, that is …” Thorin coughed, the memory was still rather embarrassing. “Everybody hurried towards it _but me_. My pony couldn’t keep up with the light-footed horses of the elves, and I fell back. When I finally arrived at the battle site, most orcs had already been taken care of. Estel had fought valiantly, and, faced with his courage and strength, they had decided to flee.” He cast a quick glance at Estel. He had lowered his head, but the flush on his cheeks was clearly visible. _What a modest boy_ , Thorin thought. _Already blushes when people talk about his courage._

“There was only one orc left, and I wanted to rush to Estel’s help. So I jumped off my pony … and promptly bruised my ankle.” Murmurs of sympathy filled the room, and Thorin, with heated cheeks, quickly continued: “I’m afraid my back was a bit … offended as well. I’m not the youngest anymore, you see. I might still be out in the valley, complaining about my old bones, if it weren’t for Estel’s kindness.” Was it just him, or was the blush covering Estel’s whole face by now? “He helped me back onto my pony and, while the others rode ahead, he stayed with me, a steadying hand on my shoulder all the time. I’m grateful for his patient support, and that he brought me without further injuries back to my husband …”

He felt a hand on his knee, squeezing it gently, and looked to his side to meet Bilbo’s tender gaze. The hobbit’s eyes shone bright in the light of the hearth fire, and a soft smile was on his lips.

Thorin knew that he should add more about Estel’s help and kindness, he _knew._ And yet the fitting words faded from his lips as he looked at Bilbo.

“My wonderful husband”, Thorin said, took Bilbo’s hand and raised it to breathe a kiss on its knuckles, “who knew very well that my ride out of the valley would come to no good, but who didn’t reproach me for my stubbornness, not once. Instead he tended to me most lovingly, easing the pain with his gentle touch. I’m afraid my pride had taken the greatest damage, and he healed that wound as well.” He was still holding Bilbo’s hand and kept the hobbit’s gaze enthralled. “He sat next to my bed and read stories to me, he entertained me with his poetry, and he even baked my favourite blackberry pie. Oh, I would have loved nothing more than to swoop you from your chair next to the bed, right into my arms – if only my back had played along!”

Their audience laughed good-humouredly, and Bilbo bent above their intertwined hands to kiss Thorin.

“I love you, my heart”, he whispered against his lips. “But, you know, you should have focussed a bit more on praising Estel … instead of praising me.”

“Screw it”, Thorin mumbled and stole another kiss from Bilbo. “You deserve it.”

***

“Welcome, welcome, my dear!”

Arwen had hardly entered when Bilbo took her hand, shook it enthusiastically and immediately led her into the parlour. Aragorn was already sitting at the table; looking somewhat lost faced with delicate china cups and doilies. She showed him an encouraging smile while Bilbo ushered her to a seat and excused himself for a moment to go into the kitchen.

Arwen and Aragorn glanced at each other while they awaited the return of their hosts.

“How nice of them to invite us for tea”, she remarked. “Hobbits should be wonderful hosts, I have been told.”

Aragorn made a non-committal sound. There was an almost pained expression on his face, and Arwen couldn’t bite back a soft laugh. “Why are you worried? I am sure it will be delightful.”

“Here we are!” Bilbo chirped brightly as he entered the parlour again, a tray in his hands and Thorin right behind him. Aragorn raised a meaningful eyebrow, and Arwen took a closer look at their hosts: The hobbit’s ears were positively scarlet, and there was a strange reddened spot on his cheek. As if something had rubbed against it, thus irritating the skin – someone’s beard, for example.

With an innocent smile, Bilbo placed the tray with the teapot on the table, and Thorin put another one with a milk jug, a sugar bowl, and fresh scones next to it. “Thank you, darling”, the hobbit said. He tilted his head slightly, and Thorin stepped closer to rub his cheek against his husband’s.

“Always a pleasure”, he muttered fondly, followed by a few words in the rough language of his own folk that turned Bilbo’s ears even redder.

Arwen mouthed a silent “I understand” at Aragorn. It was no secret that the husbands showed their affection for each other openly. Everybody in Rivendell knew it – and both of them had witnessed their mutual infatuation on more than one occasion. It wasn’t the way of the elves to display their feelings openly like that, and the first time Bilbo had grabbed Thorin’s braids and pulled him in for a gentle kiss in the midst of the Hall of Fire had caused quite some staring. But all of them had quickly grown accustomed to it, and watching the old couple that was still so deeply in love never failed to make them smile.

What caught Arwen’s attention now, however, was the effortlessness of their caress. Bilbo had barely tilted his head, but Thorin had approached him as if he had already known what his husband was about to do. They had gravitated towards each other without having to think about it first, perfectly knowing how to move in accordance with the other. Whereas many gestures that became familiar like that, though, lost their meaning and turned into little more than a vanity, it was obvious that every moment of the caress was heartfelt to Bilbo and Thorin. The hobbit’s face was hidden from Arwen’s sight, but she saw that Thorin had closed his eyes, and he smiled tenderly as he basked in his husband’s closeness. They were a picture of true bliss, and Arwen had to advert her eyes; she felt like disrupting a very intimate moment.

Eventually Bilbo mumbled something in Khuzdul – the harsh language itself was a stark contrast to his bright voice – and, remembering their guests, they drew apart.

The hobbit poured them some tea. “Milk and sugar?” he asked casually as if he hadn’t just shared a tender moment with his husband.

“Yes please”, Arwen replied politely and took her cup from him. She cast a glance at Aragorn, but he was accepting a small plate with blueberry scones from Thorin and didn’t look at her right now.

“Thank you for accepting our invitation”, the dwarf said amicably. “It’s been some while since we had guests.” With a wink at his husband, he added: “Most elves have never heard of seven meals per day.”

“Just like some dwarves that were horribly uncivilized before I met them. Is that enough milk for you, Estel? Very well.” Bilbo handed his husband a cup of tea; of course there had been no need to ask Thorin how much milk and sugar he wanted. “While we were in Erebor, we didn’t have afternoon tea every day, but after returning to the Shire, we made a little ritual out of it.”

“We often had guests, but there were also many quiet days just for the two of us”, Thorin remarked with a soft smile that was full of memories. “I enjoyed those quiet days very much.”

“Do you miss Erebor? Or the Shire?” Aragorn asked. Arwen used her teacup to hide a grin. It was obvious that he tried to prevent them from getting lost in memories and each other’s eyes.

“Sometimes.” They shrugged simultaneously. “We’ve spent a long time in Erebor”, Thorin explained. “We’ve been there for more than twenty years before we decided to move to the Shire.”

“It was actually Thorin’s idea. Back then I was already suspecting that he was hiding something from me –”

“I wouldn’t dare to hide anything from you, _amrâlimê_ , I was just thinking it through –”

“He was _hiding_ something from me, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Then, one evening, he asked me if I would like move back to the Shire. I was … quite baffled. Of course I had thought of the Shire from time to time, but I had found a home in Erebor … and at my husband’s side.”

“We gave much to Erebor. The first years weren’t easy, but we saw the rebuilding of our home – more than that, we’ve also enjoyed years of peace and prosperity. Eventually it felt like the right time to pass the crown to Fíli. He is a splendid King under the Mountain.”

“Thorin”, Bilbo said in a slightly chiding voice that immediately brought a smile to the dwarf’s face. “He has always been too strict with himself although he worked so hard. And I’m not just talking about restoration plans and political alliances and trade agreements. My darling husband also helped with the rebuilding itself. He spent days and days on the building sites, helping the workers to remove rubble … It’s a good thing that we’ve already been courting back then. You would have spent the nights there as well if I hadn’t been waiting for you in our chambers.” He handed Thorin another scone. “I think the Shire has done you a world of good.”

“ _You_ have done me a world of good.”

“And what brought you to Rivendell?” Aragorn interrupted politely.

Both of them grinned. “A meddling visitor”, Bilbo answered light-heartedly. “Gandalf came to Hobbiton – unexpected as always, of course.”

“We invited him for tea, and when we talked about our past adventures, my husband’s Tookish side woke up.” Thorin smiled. “That’s his adventurous side, you see.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “A bit of travelling can hardly be called an adventure, not after everything else we’ve been through together. But it’s true: Speaking with Gandalf and remembering our first journey woke my longing to see the world again. Rivendell and the Misty Mountains, the Carrock and Beorn’s home with its garden full of giant oak trees, the Greenwood, Dale and the Lonely Mountain … I wanted to see these places again, as well as our kin in Erebor. We’ve been on the road for quite a while and stayed for several months in Erebor. On our way back home, we decided to stop in Rivendell for a bit.”

“So you see”, Thorin concluded, “an unexpected visit from Gandalf always leads to some commotion.”

“That’s true!” Bilbo laughed. “I’m quite thankful for the first time he knocked on my door to cause some commotion.” He reached for Thorin’s hand. “After all, it brought you into my life.”

Thorin raised their intertwined hands and breathed a kiss on Bilbo’s knuckles. “I’m still a bit surprised you didn’t throw us out of your home.”

The hobbit laughed merrily. “You should have seen the mess they made of my comfortable smial!” he told Arwen and Aragorn. “There was mud trod in the carpet, they pillaged the pantry, and the plumbing in the bathroom … goodness me!” He kept on laughing when he noticed their bewildered looks. “I know, it doesn’t sound very romantic. But that night, I heard Thorin play the harp and sing for the first time. I didn’t know it yet – it would still take me months to finally figure it out –, but that night I began to fall in love with Thorin Oakenshield. And I haven’t stopped since.”

Bilbo sighed dreamily, but then he clapped his hands together in excitement. “Thorin, my dearest, would you play the harp for us? I’m sure our guests would very much enjoy it.” The hobbit didn’t look at them to see if they would really like that. Instead he watched his husband from beneath his lashes and added: “I would love to hear you as well.”

Thorin shook his head, but already rose from his seat. “How could I say no to such a lovely request? I hope you won’t be disappointed, though – I haven’t got my own harp, only one of elvish made.”

“It will be wonderful, I’m sure”, Bilbo said, and both Arwen and Aragorn nodded dutifully when he asked them: “Don’t you agree?” Every objection would have been useless anyway; Thorin had already brought the harp closer to the table. Bilbo watched him getting ready, beaming with anticipation all the time.

As soon as Thorin’s fingers grazed the strings and the first sound filled the air, Arwen knew that Bilbo’s praise wasn’t unfounded. The dwarf’s fingers moved with unexpected lightness, bringing forth sweet and gentle music. It wasn’t like anything she had ever heard from elvish players before, and it touched her in a way that no other music had. Thorin was deeply lost in his music. His eyes were closed, and his whole being seemed to be absorbed in his music.

But suddenly Thorin opened his eyes, and they interlocked with Bilbo’s. The hobbit in turn was the purest image of infatuation. His elbows rested on the table, and he had put his chin into his hands while he watched his dwarf. His eyes sparkled, his cheeks were flushed, and a big smile adorned his face. He revelled in every tune Thorin drew from the harp.

Then Thorin began to sing.

His voice was little more than a soft whisper in a strange tongue, and although he didn’t raise it, it filled the whole parlour. Bilbo’s blush deepened, and with one hand he reached for the braid in his hair and gently touched the bead in it. He was positively melting, and the tenderness of Thorin’s voice left no doubts that he was singing for his husband, and his husband alone.

Once more Arwen felt like she should look away, but at the same time she found herself enthralled by the sight. How lovingly Thorin and Bilbo looked at each other, and how little effort it took them to make the other smile! Her father had told her that they had gone through severe hardships, through darkness and war, and that Thorin’s life had hung on a thread after the Battle of the Five Armies. Dark times could bring people together, Mithrandir had added to that, but it were the moments of light, everyday deeds and simple acts of kindness and love that made those bonds last. As she watched Bilbo and Thorin she knew that they had shared plenty of happy moments to make up for each one of sorrow.

The last sound of music and song faded, and there was silence before Bilbo eventually sighed.

“My dear, I’ve almost forgotten how talented your hands are.”

Thorin uttered a low chuckle. “I don’t think we should talk about my talented hands in front of our guests, _givashel_.”

Bilbo laughed. “Oh, you’re a horrible dwarf!”

“I’m _your_ horrible dwarf.”

They smiled each other, obviously forgetting about said guests. With a shake of her head, Arwen emptied her teacup, wondering if she would have to wait long for another one. She blinked in surprise when Aragorn reached for the teapot and beckoned her to hand him her cup.

“Seems like we have to take care of ourselves”, he remarked while pouring her some tea. In a lower voice he added: “Our hosts are obviously too enamoured with each other to be of much help.”

Arwen smiled at him. “I guess you got to the heart of it.”

***

When Arwen approached Thorin’s and Bilbo’s rooms, Aragorn was already there. He was sitting on a bench next to the door. Since it was made to fit the dwarf’s and hobbit’s size, the tall man had to draw his knees up, thus looking rather awkward.

“So you have been invited to tea as well”, she greeted him.

He nodded. “We have to wait a bit, though.”

“Aren’t they home yet?”

“They are.” The corners of Aragorn’s mouth twitched. “I was eavesdropping, I admit it. I wanted to make sure that the harp was out of sight. Master Bilbo suggested to take the tea in their garden. The weather is nice, he said, and the oak trees look so beautiful. Then Master Thorin called him his little acorn, and suddenly they got emotional and held each other in their arms … Let’s give them a few moments.”

Arwen sat down next to him, she had to pull up her knees as well. “I hope they will be alright. It would be a pity to skip afternoon tea with them.” She laughed when Aragorn looked at her with raised eyebrows. “I am very fond of them – despite the harp incident.”

“I am too. They are a lovely couple.” He grinned. “And their tries to get us together are somewhat charming.” He shifted his position on the bench, and his fingers brushed against Arwen’s. “Should we tell them that we have confessed our feelings for each other long ago already?”

“Oh, we could.” She covered his hand with her own. “But we could also let them think that it is their doing. I think it would make them happy.”

“They’re truly one of a kind.”

“They are smitten kittens.” Arwen laughed when she was met with Aragorn’s surprised gaze. “Ada’s words, not mine.” Her mirth turned into a sigh. “They have been married for almost fifty years now, and they are still as deeply in love as on their wedding day. Even deeper, I think.”

There was something in her voice that had Aragorn turn to look at her properly. “Arwen?”

“After our last afternoon tea with them, I visited them once more. I had to ask them … how they think about their future.” Her face was unmoving – except for her eyes. “When our time has come, we elves sail into the West. But what about men? The stories cannot tell, and this question keeps bothering me. We do not know what happened to Beren and Lúthien or to Tuor and Idril in the end. Have the Valar looked upon them and given them their blessing? Or was not even their love enough, and they were separated?” They could hear some clatter from inside; it seemed like Bilbo and Thorin had resumed their preparations for tea. “I hoped that they could give me an answer, and they did.”

“What answer did they have for you?” Aragorn asked softly. Relieved he saw that Arwen broke into a smile.

“‘None of the Valar are strong enough to keep us apart.’”

“What an answer! Who said that, Master Thorin?”

“No, it was Master Bilbo, and he looked like he meant it.” She shook her head, the amused smile still on her face. “They told me that dwarves return to the Halls of their maker Aule, but that nobody knows where hobbits go once they have to leave Middle-Earth. Master Bilbo said it is a good thing that he knows where he can find Master Thorin since he has a horrible sense of direction, and that he _will_ find him … And Master Thorin promised him that there will not be the need to find him because he will wait for his hobbit, and they will turn West together. They are not afraid of losing each other, and they are giving me courage. You see –”

A sudden shriek from inside had them both startle, and Aragorn got up to cast a glance through the window. “Nothing to worry”, he eventually said and sat down again. “Master Thorin has wrapped his arms around Master Bilbo and lifted him off the ground so he could reach one of the higher shelves, and now he’s refusing to let him go again.”

“Smitten kittens”, she repeated Elrond’s words. “I hope that we will be like them someday.”

“Inviting others to afternoon tea and making them feel all awkward with our displays of affection? Or …” Aragorn lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, mimicking the way Thorin often caressed Bilbo. “Or being as deeply in love as on our marriage day?”

Her cheeks heated as he spoke so bluntly of being married. “Being as deeply in love as on our marriage day … and being strong enough in our love to even face the Valar.”

“Do you worry about it, Arwen? About our future?”

“I do. I feel that we will have to pass through shadows.”

“But we _will_ pass through them.”

“You sound very convinced.”

“I am convinced.” Aragorn let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her instead, and Arwen leaned against him. They could hear laughter from inside, followed by telling silence. Thorin had probably decided to let go of Bilbo in exchange for some kisses. “They give me courage as well. They also passed through darkness, and if we can only gain half of their happiness, we will have a fulfilled life.”

She smiled. “That does not sound like you, my dear – only aiming for half of something.”

“Well, they are quite a goal to achieve …”

Arwen glanced up at him, now grinning. “We could always try to surpass them.” She placed her fingers on his chin and tilted his head, gently pulling his face closer towards her.

“M-hm … Let’s try our best.” Finally his lips found hers, and the blissful sensation chased away all of Arwen’s worries. The softness of Aragorn’s touch let her heart beat faster, and in that moment she knew with certainty that all things would turn out well, and that all shadows they would ever witness would pass, and that the Valar would smile upon them.

“The bench!” a bright voice interrupted their reverie. “Of course, we could’ve thought of that earlier. It’s a very romantic spot, after all.”

“Really? I hardly admire the sight when we sit there. Actually, there is a certain sight I admire, but it isn’t the landscape …”

“Oh, you confounded dwarf!”

“ _Your_ confounded dwarf.”

Aragorn smiled against Arwen’s lips. “Let’s try our best to catch up with them. On every day that is to come.”

“I’d like that very much.” Arwen gave him another kiss. “But first let’s have afternoon tea.”

***

The giant square at the upmost level of Gondor was filled to the last corner. Nobles, soldiers, and servants stepped onto each other’s toes; Rohirrim, elves, and dwarves bumped into each other; the old were just as excited as the young. All of them wore broad smiles on their faces, though, laughed good-humouredly about the scramble and clapped the person they had accidentally bumped into onto the shoulder.

War was over, and the King had returned.

In one comparatively quiet corner of the square, a dwarf and a hobbit had settled down on a bench. They watched the coming and going, and from time to time they would put their grey heads together to comment on what they saw, never failing to make the other chuckle.

“Look, over there, there’s Pippin. Goodness, he has grown quite a bit. And he looks quite dashing in Gondor’s livery.”

“You think so, _givashel_? I bet the livery of Erebor would look better on him.”

“Thorin, dearest, he wouldn’t be able to wear it. It consists of several pieces of armour, after all. It would crush him.”

“Nonsense. Have you seen the ceremonial armour Fíli’s personal guards are wearing? Light and practical, I tell you.”

“Sure – for dwarves!” Thorin snorted, and Bilbo patted his arm consolingly. “Fíli looked wonderful, my heart. He’s a splendid King under the Mountain. I’m really proud of him.”

Thorin seemed about to burst with pride as well. “Speaking of nephews we are proud of – where has Frodo gone? I thought he wanted to join us after the ceremony.”

“I think I saw him heading towards us, but you can easily lose track of a hobbit in these masses …”

“I know a ranger we can ask for help.” Thorin grinned when the newly crowned King of Gondor and his Queen approached them, and Bilbo gave him a nudge with his elbow.

“He’s the _King_ now, Thorin!”

“When I was King under the Mountain, you always asked me to grab things from the high shelves for you! I also carried your books from the library into our rooms. And I always helped you cooking …”

“As far as I remember, you enjoyed cooking with me very much – not to mention those meals. Oh, your Majesties!” Bilbo broke into a smile when Aragorn and Arwen stood in front of them.

“Master Bilbo, Master Thorin. We are happy to see you”, Aragorn greeted them warmly.

“We are honoured to call you our guests.” Arwen bowed her head, a smile on her face. “You look especially handsome today, Master Bilbo. Are you wearing your mithril vest?”

The hobbit proudly raised his chin; he was delighted that Arwen hat noticed it at once. “Frodo returned it to Thorin, but those two kept it a secret from me! Thorin polished it until it shone like new, and then he gave it to me once more. And he asked me if I would marry him again!” He snuggled up to his husband. Thorin’s eyes had a glassy look, but he smiled as he tilted his head to brush a kiss on Bilbo’s curls. “We will be celebrating our sixtieth wedding anniversary this year, can you believe it?”

“How romantic”, Arwen replied. “Will there be a special celebration?”

Bilbo nodded. “We want to visit Erebor, and celebrate with our kin. But Thorin won’t tell me if there are any traditions for a sixtieth anniversary!”

“I want to surprise my husband”, Thorin declared fondly. “Oh, Estel, could you be a good boy and move two steps to the side? Thank you, that’s better, now Lady Galadriel won’t see us. Whenever we meet her, I feel the need to apologize for that one time Kíli used her mirror to refill his water skin.”

“Thorin, that’s been more than thirty years ago!” Bilbo exclaimed.

“I know, but she’s an _elf_. I bet she remembers it as if it happened last week.”

“You should rather worry about why Kíli did that in the first place. I mean, Galadriel’s mirror looks like a bird bath! Why would he use a bird bath to refill his water skin?”

Aragorn coughed slightly, thus turning their attention towards them again.

“It’s been a wonderful coronation”, Thorin said dutifully, and Bilbo nodded.

“I really enjoyed your song, it was lovely. You know, Thorin, you could have sung at your own coronation as well …”

“I don’t sing for anyone, _givashel_. But if you ask me to sing for _you_ …”

“I’d like that very much. How about a lullaby tonight?”

“As you wish, my dear. One kiss per stanza.”

“Oh, you – ”

They were interrupted by Aragorn’s deep laughter. “It’s good to see that you haven’t changed at all, my dear friends!”

“But it’s good to see that _you_ have changed”, Bilbo answered gently. “Both of you.” Then he laughed merrily. “It wouldn’t do for both of you to still dance around each other and making heart eyes at each other from the distance! But look at you now. King and Queen of Gondor …”

“We’re really happy for you.”

“Thank you.” Arwen and Aragorn looked at each other, both of them breaking into a smile. “And thank you for all your efforts to bring us together.”

“Goodness, you knew? We tried to be subtle about it. At least _I_ tried.”

“Don’t give me that look, _kurdê_. I always told you that the harp was too much.”

“But you play it so wonderfully …”

“Will you join us for the banquet?” Arwen and Aragorn interrupted them in unison before they would get lost in each other’s eyes once more. “You are our guests of honour, and special seats at the table have been prepared for you.”

“Guests of honour”, Bilbo repeated with delight while they got up. He and Thorin linked arms and followed the King and Queen into the hall. They stopped several times on their way to exchange a few words with friends – Bilbo gave Gandalf quite a scolding for not having met them earlier, just to ask a few moments later if he agreed with him that Thorin should have sung during his coronation, and they fiercely hugged every hobbit or dwarf that crossed their path. Eventually they had managed their way to their seats, and Arwen and Aragorn excused themselves to speak to some other guests.

Bilbo’s eyes brightened as he saw the delicacies that were spread on the table in front of them.

“It looks almost as good as your cooking”, Thorin remarked as they helped themselves to some starters and earned himself a kiss on the cheek.

“Look, over there”, the hobbit whispered into his ear. Opposite of them sat a young woman, clad in white and with hair the colour of wheat, and a knight of Gondor. They were quietly talking to each other with soft, almost shy smiles on their faces. Without taking their eyes off each other, they reached for their goblets, but as their hands brushed against each other, both of them gave a start and turned red.

“That must be Éowyn and Faramir.”

“The ones we’ve heard about?”

Bilbo nodded, then he put on a bright smile and waved at them until he had caught their attention.

“Hello, my name is Bilbo Baggins, and this is my husband Thorin. Would you like to visit us for tea sometime? My husband is wonderful at playing the harp, you know.”

Next to Faramir, carefully trying not to let his brother see this gesture, Boromir showed them an enthusiastic thumbs up.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't tag Éowyn, Faramir and Boromir to put in that little surprise at the end ^^ I imagine that Boromir would be more than excited to see his little brother falling in love, but also super annoyed because of the shy glances and the pining ... and he'd find some fellow shippers in Thorin and Bilbo!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this fic, I definitely had much fun writing it! Smitten Thorin and Bilbo (making everyone around them feel awkward) are simply the best <3


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